And the Pain Will Never Cease
by Believe4Ever
Summary: I closed my eyes as the torch was brought forth. Why couldn't I do anything? Why didn't I even try to do anything? Bound, strung up, and prepared to be burned. It was a horrendous punishment that was to be faced. I loved him. *Light merthur*


It hurt.

It was pain that he was unfamiliar with. He'd gone through a lot of pain in his life, many wounds had left their mark on his body and he'd seen many of his friends brush up against death. But this just . . . hurt. It was plain and simple pain.

"Once again it's clear to me that those who practice magic are evil and dangerous. And that is thanks to you."

"Glad I could help."

It was fake. Everything about the two of us was fake. He didn't know the real me. I highly doubted that I know the real him either. He always looked sad. I supposed I would look sad too, but I was better at hiding it. I was better at hiding a lot of things.

The king has been a problem. He created a ridge between the people, between the Pendragons, between everyone. Including myself. He excluded me and made me feel so . . . hated. It would seem that nobody ever knew the real me.

Sometimes I didn't know myself either.

Camelot is my home. I would do anything to protect its people and yet sometimes I felt that my own feelings came first; my own family or friends. It was something that was always my weakness. It always caused pain to everyone.

Why was he ever loyal to me? Why did he always care for me? I always cared for him, so I suppose it would only be fair to go the same way around. And yet he always gives me that smile. Even when he was insulting me he'd grin and wave me off. I was used to it by now.

The pain was back.

It wouldn't stop, no matter how much I tried to quell my heart. It raced faster than the knights' horses during a run. I breathed deeply as the ropes bound around wrists, chaffing and rubbing against skin. As the board was pressed firmly into the back, straightening the spine and forcing the body to stand tall. I exhaled as wood was piled up beneath the feet. As the crowd rumbled with conversation.

I never could notice when he faked those smiles. He even did so in front of crowds. He just wanted to please those around him. I could understand that. I just wanted to please him.

And yet . . .

It was a shock to everyone when they found out. The magic. Instant death sentence. It wasn't supposed to be found out. None of it. It was supposed to always be a secret. A secret never told to anyone. Especially not . . .

I closed my eyes as the torch was brought forth. Why couldn't I do anything? Why didn't I even try to do anything? Bound, strung up, and prepared to be burned. It was a horrendous punishment that was to be faced.

I loved him.

I had always known it. I'd always known that I loved him but I never quite knew how. I cared for him. I'd give my life for him. I was willing to give my life for him on several occasions. I thought we were close friends, almost like brothers, but it was . . . more. He'd grown, right before my eyes. Not just in aging and maturing, which he had done plenty of, but he'd grown into someone of respect. He grew attractive—or was that just because his personality changed him? He was no longer the rude boy I met in Camelot. He was now the responsible, caring man who'd I'd grown up right alongside of.

That first meeting was still fresh in my mind despite how long it'd been.

_"You've had your fun, my friend."_

_"Do I know you? You called me 'friend'."_

_"That was my mistake. I've never had a friend who could be such an ass."_

My lips flexed with a twinge of a smile despite myself. I risked a glance at the king who stood high up on his balcony, looking down with no emotion in his eyes. That wasn't such a surprise. But still. I wished that at least once he would show some remorse for the magic user he was condemning to death.

Death.

I closed my eyes as the torch was brought to the kindling. I braced myself for it.

A scream.

It was a loud scream, and it may have come from my mouth. I couldn't quite tell. There was just fire, bright red, and flames licking up the post.

"_MERLIN!_"

I love him. I love him and I never got to tell him. Now there was fire and there would be death. All this over magic. Why didn't I try to stop this? I could . . . I was capable . . . I was capable of helping _him_ in any other situation and yet I was powerless now when I needed it most.

The pain was worse. It was spreading through my body. I could no longer contain it. More screaming. It wouldn't stop. It'd never stop.

"Merlin!" A less powerful voice this time around. It was fading. I was fading. Everything was disappearing along with the smoke of the fire.

And then he was gone.

* * *

**Ah, now the question is, whose perspective was it: Merlin or Arthur? ;) PM me if you're that curious but reviews are very much appreciated! Thanks**


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